


Tumblr Prompt Ficlets

by avidffreader



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, PWP, Smut, Various Rated Ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:37:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidffreader/pseuds/avidffreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompt ficlets I wrote for Tumblr. Tags will be added to the SUMMARY of each chapter, as each chapter is it's own story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pontiac Library Book Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Rated: G, for fluff, emotional Cas, and literature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit my tumblr at http://avidffreader.tumblr.com/

_AU Prompt: Castiel is part of a book club, and Dean returns his book when they meet. Castiel is glad to have made a friend who just might be interested in books as he is._

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Clearly Jane was a feminist in her own time, she didn't need a man to make her life have meaning, she's better than Rochester."

"No, no, Jane is a symbol of Christian faith, and _Mister_ Rochester is the downfall of man's pride that is ultimately redeemed when she chooses to stay with him in the end."

"Rochester is a douchebag, he hides his real wife in the attic and tries to make Jane his mistress, even trying to sleep with her before the supposed 'wedding' and we're supposed to cheer for that? No way!"

The women bickered back and forth on the text and subtext of **Jane Eyre** , and Castiel could feel a mounting tension behind his eyes. This was the third headache this week, and constant noise was doing him no favors. He leaned forward to rub at his temple, temporarily blacking out the world with closed eyes until a scoff brought him back to the circle.

"Well, Castiel," sneered Bela Talbot, longest standing member of the Pontiac Library Book Club. "If we're so _wrong_ about our interpretations that you just have to hang your head in embarrassment, why don't _you_ tell us what **Jane Eyre** is really about?"

Castiel blinked, confused as he looked as Bela. "Pardon? I wasn't embarrassed, I'm just feeling a little under the wea-"

"Oh knock it off, Clarence, if you don't like the book we picked, then skip the meetings until we finish it and you can slide back in later." Meg Masters, bored housewife and troublemaker, delighted in making others feel less if he brought her up high.

Castiel swallowed, feeling the familiar anxiety of confrontation pecking at his back. "I apologize, ladies, I allowed my ill feelings of the day disrupt our meeting. I promise not to do so again."

It seemed to pacify Meg and Ruby, who simply glared whenever Castiel opened his mouth, but Bela was no so easy to win over. "Good. However, as a member of the Club, you need to address what you think the book means to you, so spill it."

Castiel looked down as his copy, a well-worn edition his mother had on her bookshelf for years before giving it to him as a going-away present.

"Well," Castiel cleared his through, thumbing the pages of his book until he came to the chapter were Jane and Edward meet on the road. "I think Jane is a symbol of unwavering faith and perseverance, in that whatever hardships befall her, she just needs to trust in God and have hope for the future, and she'll handle the hardships the way she always did."

"And what was that?" Ruby asked, sharing a glance with Bela across the circle.

"With grace and dignity, strong in her knowledge that she wasn't the evil little child her adult superiors always said she was, and striving to be the best she could be, for herself and for the children she left behind as she grew and set out on her own. She just wanted a little corner of the earth to call a home. Mr. Rochester was put in her path so she could find that home, and so that she could be God's instrument in answering his own prayers for freedom and peace, and ultimately love."

The girls were silent, and for a moment Castiel thought he'd made a breakthrough, until Meg began to laugh. Bela joined in, and Ruby simply stood and collected her belongings.

"Castiel, this isn't **Cinderella** , Rochester's actions could hardly be called love if he was willing to have his cake and eat it, too." Bela shook her head, gathering her purse and standing to her feet.

"Seriously, why would she love him after all that? It's desperation, pure and simple, or she'd be crammed back in the church with her cousin." Meg followed the two out of the wing of the library where they held their weekly meetings, looking over her shoulder. "We'll be done with Jane Eyre in 3 weeks. Come back then for the next book, we'll try again."

Castiel couldn't tell if she was sincere yet patronizing, or dismissive and rude. He supposed it didn't really matter. Making friends was difficult. Be it being too weird or too awkward or trying too hard to connect or missing all those social cues, Castiel just couldn't seem to make it work.

He put the chairs back at their respective tables, threw away the trash from Meg's fast food dinner, wrote a small 'thank you' note to the librarian for letting them use the Fiction wing for their meetings after hours. He sighed, weary from the day, and made his way home to his small apartment.

As he walked, he wondered (not for the first time) if he should stay in the Book Club. It wasn't much fun, as his opinions and interpretations were always 'wrong.' But what else would he do on a Thursday night? Probably the same as he did every other night of the week - filing his coworkers' papers for them with a hot mug of tea and the TV set to the nature channel. If he was lucky, his cat would decide he was worth her attention.

About an hour latter, when a cup of chamomile and Grace's soft purrs on his belly had eased most of his tension, there was a knock at his door. Castiel blinked, momentarily blank as he stared at the old wood. No one _ever_ came to visit, so who on earth could it be?

Easing Grace to a couch pillow, Castiel stood up and opened the door. A pair of deep green eyes met his gaze.

"Hey, is this the Novak residence? A Cas-tee-el Novak?"

Castiel nodded, eyes transfixed on the smattering of freckles along the man's cheekbones.

"Er, um - yes, that is me. How may I help you?"

The man held up a very familiar book. "Found this near the entrance of the library, and it had your address in the front cover. Don't see that often these days, personalizing books."

"Oh, I - um, it was my mother's, and it's one of my favorites, so putting my name on it makes it family to me."

"Books as family... kinda like that. Name's Dean Winchester, I'm the night janitor down at the library. You're in that book club, aren't you?" The man - Dean - leaned up against the door jam, a small smile on his face.

"Perhaps not for much longer. I don't seem to be reading the material correctly to suit the ladies' tastes."

"Pfft, those aren't ladies, those are snakes in skirts and heels. You don't need anyone to tell you how to read a friggin' book, what you see is what you see, it's how you feel after reading it."

Castiel's mouth dropped open, a light flush on his cheeks. He couldn't suppress a grin as he leaned forward to grasp Dean's arm. "Yes! Yes, that's exactly what I think as well. Even if an author doesn't intend for something to be, it can be read in so many ways they unconsciously create, making a far reaching impact on the audience."

Dean looked down at the hand on his arm, silent. Castiel swallowed, releasing it with a stuttered "I'm sorry" that quickly died when Dean darted forward to catch Castiel's hand. "Don't be. I don't often get to talk shop with people at the library. They just sorta see me as the help and politely do the one word answer thing."

Castiel gently squeezed their fingers together. "I would value your opinion, Dean. Would you like to come in for tea? As a thank you for rescuing my book."

Dean's grinned, and he stepped into the apartment. "You got it, Cas. Y'know, I always thought Rochester did what he had to do because he saw Jane as his equal. Not someone above him, directing his life and tricking him into marriage, and not someone beneath him answering his whims the way they think he'd want them answered. They had a real partnership."

Castiel smiled softly, staring up into those green eyes. "A partner. That sounds nice."

"It really does, Cas. Maybe we oughta start a book club of our own?" Dean smiled wide, putting his hand on Castiel's, and together they shut the door behind them.


	2. Morning Make-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Rated: Explicit, for PWP, Top!Cas/Bottom!Dean, and barely there anal sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit my tumblr at http://avidffreader.tumblr.com/

_AU Prompt: PWP of morning sex, i dunno, cas is nervous about initiating it but dean insists. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dean wakes up to pressure on his thighs as Cas kneads them, pushing the muscles up and down until his hands glide over the firm globes of Dean's ass. Dean's on his stomach, face turned to the wall on his pillow, and he's slightly chilled from where Cas pulled the covers away from his naked body. He shifts, cracking his spine and spreading his legs on the bed wider, but keeps his eyes close as Cas freezes his ministrations. Dean pretends to sleep still, waiting, until Cas relaxes and goes back to massaging his rear. Small kisses are pressed into the small of Dean's back, and he feels guilty that he'd rebuffed Cas's offers of cuddling and intimacy the night before.

It'd been a rough day at the shop, and his shoulders were still sore from banging them on the undercarriage of a Mercedes. It wasn't Cas's fault, but Dean never was good at thinking twice before going into action. They'd fallen asleep separately last night, and it gnawed on Dean in the morning light. The fact that Cas wanted his attentions to be unknown meant he couldn't contain his affections, and had to release it somehow, even if to prove to himself his love for Dean was still strong. Fingers trail up and down his back carefully, back over his rear and down his legs, but Cas stays away from the goods. That would definitely wake Dean up if he weren't already. _Anymore of this and the game's up_ , he thinks.

He keeps his face still and his breathing deep, but bares down on the mattresses with his arms and raised his hips, pulling his legs underneath him so that his ass is raised in the air towards Cas. His lover has stopped, hands pulled back, and is unmoving at the foot of the bed. Only when Dean slides his arm underneath himself, through the legs, to crook his finger in a _come hither_ gesture does Cas move, pressing back up to Dean and draping himself over his back. His cock lies heavy and hard within Dean's crack, rubbing minutely against the warm skin as Cas's hands drift to Dean's nipples. He rubs and tweaks them, but Dean stays firmly "asleep."

The game is truly up, though, when Cas reaches down and pulls at Dean's morning wood, waggling it back and forth in the air, lightly scraping the sensitive head against the sheets before pulling it back up towards his stomach. Dean's breathing hitches, and he cants his hips in an arch to make Castiel's own dick butt up against his rim. He feels Castiel smile against his neck, and he's sliding down to press between his shoulder blades. He keeps one hand on Dean's erection, pumping it slowly to keep it interested, as he guides his own cock just inside Dean's rim, pushing in until only the head is covered. He goes no further, but uses his unoccupied hand to jack himself, barely moving in and out in centimeters from Dean's hole, and the empty ache inside Dean is screaming.

Dean grips the pillow tight, face blazing, as Castiel jerks him in earnest. How he's able to focus on a cock in each hand is beyond him, but the pressure at this hole is perfect, and he wiggles himself to aid the process. Cas grunts, his hand flying out to grip Dean's hip as he shoots his load inside Dean, most of it spilling right back out to soak his dick and Dean's balls. The feeling comes so fast, Dean looses it, and with a twist of his wrist Cas gets him off, and his coats the sheets.

His legs give out, and Dean's groin falls to the bed. Castiel braces himself over Dean, kissing anything his lips can touch and tangling his fingers in Dean's hair.

"Good morning, my love."

"Mornin' to you, too, Cas. I'm, uh... sorry 'bout last night, I was just-"

"Shh," Castiel whispers, licking a small stripe up Dean's neck. "It's all right. We're here now."

Dean smiles, forgiven, and turns his head to kiss Cas on the mouth. "Now and forever, babe."


	3. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Rated: Explicit, for Top!Beast!Cas/Bottom!Dean, and barely there dub-con (Dean willingly goes as a sacrifice to save his family).

Dean fights back the chill that threatens to shake his limbs as the tent bends and billows around him.  The candles are safe in their spun glass cases, and the silk pillows give weight to the copious blankets covering the floor, but Dean's eyes are focused on the small amulet he holds tightly in his palm. A gift from Sammy before Dean left his village, it's the only thing he has to remember his family by. The reason for his sacrifice and willingness to leave with the Angells. He is unclothed beneath the small wrap Charlie had given him when he entered the tent, and kneeling on his knees to stare down at the soft pallet beneath him.  
  
There is shouting outside, and shadows creep higher along the walls as the chief of the Angells, Zachariah, screams loudly in Enochian. An answered guttural cry is thrown back, calm to Zachariah's ire. Dean breathes deeply, trying to resist the urge to bolt to his feet and run into the woods, his nudity be damned. The quiet shuffling of one of the Angells servants ceases as a soft hand touches Dean's ankle.  
  
"They're fighting about the tradition."  
  
Charlie was once a sacrifice as well, given to a lesser important Angell in exchange for protecting her small commune in the far West. The Angells weren't interested to begin with, but when a low-ranking noble named Gilda saw how poorly Charlie was treated for her aversion to men, she agreed to offer protection in exchange for Charlie herself. While she had rarely spoken since Dean arrived, he knew she was happy to be with Gilda than her own disapproving village.  
  
"Zachariah wishes for your copulation to be done in front of the entire race, and then your body given as offering to the great Angell in the sky. He chooses to ignore that only a part of your life essence is needed. But... I don't think Castiel will do that. He has refused all traditional routes thus far."  
  
Dean licks his lips as he wraps the blanket tighter around his body. "What does he look like?" He had seen the Beast form the Angells took, but not the half-humanoid shape they employed for carnal reasons. In Zachariah's eyes, the sacrifice was owed nothing.  
  
"Skin as dark as his blue eyes, black hair from his head to his tail. Six arms and hands and a pair of beautiful black wings from his back. He is strong. He is the Prince, but until his true coronation in three summers, Zachariah technically rules the colony."  
  
The shouting outside stops, and the large crowds of Angells disperses. There is a dark form at the tent's entrance, and whispering comes from the flap. Charlie moves to stand behind Dean, draping a silken bind around his eyes and removing the wrap from his body.  
  
"It is time. Be brave, Dean. I truly believe you will come to no harm."  
  
She's gone, and Dean is alone. Every sound is enhanced without his sight, and he doesn't miss the wisp of the tent's entrance flap as another body enters the tent. The smell of snuffed out candles fills the air as the dim light he can make out through the blindfold is extinguished.  
  
 _This is for Sammy_ , Dean reminds himself. _This for Mom and Dad and Jo and Bobby and the whole village. They'll be safe, it's only your own pathetic life that needs to be taken. You can do this._  
  
A soft growl meets his ear as he is suddenly touched. Two hands gently encircle his neck, rubbing into the tense muscles and carding just barely through the hair at his nape.  
  
Another set trails from his shoulders to his biceps, gripping firmly but not unkindly, and keeping Dean's arms firmly to his sides.  
  
A third set works its way down Dean's spine, massaging the aches and pains of sitting so stiffly for so long. They continue downward, landing on his hips and spreading dark blue fingers wide.  
  
Dean chokes only a bit before biting his lip as all of the hands coax him forward to lay on his stomach, and with his arms pinned he realizes this is it. This is how he is to be bedded, taken by the Prince of Angells who swore he would protect the small village of Winchester as long as Dean gave himself to the crown, body and soul. The blindfold stays put, and his mouth drops open in pants as he struggles to remain calm and relaxed.  
  
Warm lips come to rest at the back of his neck, and he can barely make out the whispered Enochian words as Castiel begins to murmur them. The lips press kisses down the same path his hands had traveled, and the multitude of hands begin to swarm across his back and resettle in new places. His arms are still held down, but two hands gently wedge beneath his thighs and coax them open to allow the Prince's knees to prop against them. Another two grasp the firm globes of his cheeks and spread them apart, exposing his hole to the cool air.  
  
Castiel is still muttering words into Dean's skin, dipping over the curve of his back and down to his ass. Warm breath blows across his rim, and a firm wet tongue is suddenly there.  
  
"Ah!" Dean gasps, tightening and jerking within the Angell's hands. All six of them tighten just a bit, keeping him completely immobile, and that tongue begins to stroke over his hole, wetting it and teasing the rim. It laves at him generously, and Dean can feel to smooth metal of rings somewhere on Castiel's face. After a few moments, Dean finds himself relaxing, his lungs breathing in deeply, small "oh"s falling with each pass of the tongue.  
  
That seems to be the unspoken signal; Castiel stops his ministrations and releases Dean's arms. He moves that set of hands to Dean's rib, lifting him up. The set beneath his thighs also lifts up, urging Dean to his hands and knees on the silken pillows. The final set of hands remains on his asscheeks, keeping them wide open. When Dean is fully propped up, spread wide and presenting to Castiel, the Prince murmurs a few more words. The tongue returns, pressing into Dean every so gently, and Dean feels himself begin to harden. His eyes fly wide beneath the cloth, and his arms tremble lightly. Never before as anyone been there, and thought of what would come spikes fear among the pleasure.  
  
The Prince thrusts his tongue further into Dean, and the hands on his ribs leave to rummage near his side. He hears the clinking of pottery, and suddenly a sweet fragrance wafts beneath his nose. He sighs in relief; that smell means it's the rosemary oil Charlie had brought in. Dean prays for no pain. His prayers seem answered when warm oily fingers cradle his balls, rubbing them and folding them gently in long clawed fingers. More fingers encircle his cock, pulling and stroking his entire length. Dean begins to pant in earnest, his member filling and his face flaming. His lip is nearly bleeding from being bitten, and the combined feelings of being tongued and jacked and having his balls fondled is sending Dean dangerously close to the edge. Just as the wave inside begins to crest, Castiel leans down over Dean's back and whispers haltingly in his ear, "Please - I want to hear you" before biting down on his shoulder.  
  
Dean comes, crying out brokenly as he paints the Prince's hand with his seed. It flacks down onto the pillows and pallet, mixing with the oil that had steadily dripped down his thighs. When the orgasm passes, Castiel eases Dean back down to his stomach, clearing the soiled bedding away. He releases all holds on him, dragging his fingers through Dean's hair before pressing a dry kiss to Dean's lips. The blindfold has slipped upwards just a pinch, and Dean can see from Castiel's waist to below. The darkness of the tent hides definition. Dean moans weakly as Castiel works his length once more, collecting his spend and putting it into an empty jar. The Prince rises to his feet and moves to the entrance of the tent. He calls out a low song, and the sound of flapping wings echoes in Dean's ears. More words pass in Enochian, and Dean just barely sees the shadows on the wall as Castiel gives the jar to his acolytes.  
  
The air seems chillier without two bodies working together, but the feeling doesn't last as Castiel returns to him.  
  
"I must have you again."  
  
The words are broken, stilted like the language is foreign, and Dean nearly laughs because of course it is. His arms are once again pinned, and his legs are spread wide to accommodate Castiel's thighs. Hands lift behind his knees and keep him open, fingers pull apart his oiled cheeks, and the blunt head of a slick cock is at his entrance. Dean's mouth opens in protest, but is smothered by smooth lips with a hint of fang , and the long wicked tongue that had opened him so easily is now working his own. The cock at his rim pushes in slowly, and Dean arches back in discomfort at the new sensation, He can't move, can't budge away or do more than flex his feet. He is held so firmly he can't help but allow his body to receive the intrusion. The lips he had pulled from have moved down to suckle at a nipple, pebbling in the air and tingling with arousal.  
  
Soon the cock has filled him completely, and Dean groans loudly as he is fully dominated. The slick slide in and out of his body becomes easier, and soon there is no discomfort at all. Each push lights Dean up as he is worked. Castiel is grunting harshly as he thrusts, and Dean thinks he's saying something like "Limlal", but his own body is singing in ecstasy. Suddenly, Castiel his something inside Dean that makes him nearly scream, and the force of his body jerking allows Castiel to haul him up and sit in his lap. The arms holding his biceps release to curl around his back, and on instinct he returns the embrace. The oily hands on his asscheeks grip more tightly and keep him spread, the cock between moving at a fast pace. The final set of hands fumble amongst the jars near the pallet, and return to Dean's neglected dick in earnest. Something cold and tingly is coating Castiel's hands, and as soon as it touches Dean's skin his cock begins to harden anew.  
  
Never before has Dena had an erection so soon after an orgasm, but Castiel has him back at the edge, and the firm presses to that special spot inside him threaten to topple him over. Dean starts to feel himself lock up when Castiel uses one hand from around his back to take the blindfold off and cup Dean's cheek. Dean's eyes open in surprise, and even though most everything in the tent is dark, he can clearly see the beautiful glacial blue of Castiel's eyes. The prince is gasping as well, fangs white amongst the blackness of his mouth, and he keeps his gaze locked firmly onto Dean.  
  
"You stay- with me? Willingly? Not sacrifice-- but lover?"  
  
 _His voice is amazing_ , Dean thinks faintly, before nodding his head. He's not quite sure what he's agreeing to, but he's pretty sure he won't die after all, and his family is safe. The word 'lover' makes him pause, but he'll figure that out later. Anything, if Castiel will just let him achieve his release. "I'm yours," he grunts, and Castiel leans forward to press his forehead to Dean's chest. The Prince growls like the Beast he is, and warmth paints Dean insides.  
  
A series of strong surges and a quick jerk of Castiel's wrist send Dean into oblivion and he hits his orgasm like a stampede. The glorious fire in his veins explode, and he feels himself starting to pass out from the force of it all. Just before the world falls away, Castiel falls to the floor with him, and Dean hears him state clearly "Limlal" before his mind is gone.


End file.
